


so it goes

by orphan_account



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:40:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2719073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>“So,” Harry starts when he catches himself staring at Niall’s mouth too long. “There’s something I didn’t tell you.”</i>
</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“What?” Niall grumbles, voice groggy as he rubs his eyes. </i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>Now’s the time, he supposes. Never isn’t an option anymore. “My mum thinks we’re dating.”</i></p><p> </p><p>  <i>There’s silence.</i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>Or, Niall and Harry pretend to date.</p>
            </blockquote>





	so it goes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LesserDisaster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LesserDisaster/gifts).



> for lesserdisaster who asked for "pretend-to-be-in-a-relationship that leads to an actual relationship"  
> thank you to AUTUMN!! love u autumn ♡  
> enjoy ♡♡♡  
> [(open me in a new tab and play when/if desired)](http://highway-bluez.tumblr.com/post/80983304967/take-my-hand-take-my-whole-life-too-for-i-cant)

_**“Wise men say, ‘Only fools rush in.’”** _

~

Harry doesn’t know what to do when Niall tells him that he can’t make it home for Christmas.

It’s less than a month before the holiday, but Niall is frantic as he whines to Harry about how he’s been stressing over finances and how he won’t be able to pay for a way back to Ireland this year. Their last year of uni together seems to truly be beating Niall up, and his job at the comic book store with Zayn doesn’t seem to be doing much for him.

It breaks Harry’s heart to see him so upset about not being able to see his family for Christmas.

Niall tells him how his father’s been tight on money too, and his mother isn’t doing so well either. He says Greg would offer to help if he didn’t have a son to look after. Harry listens to Niall huff about how he won’t be able to even see Theo this year, and how pictures of his ever growing nephew just won’t be enough.

“H _eeee_ y,” Harry says when Niall starts going on about how coming all the way out to London, bloody London, was the worst idea ever and he should’ve just stayed in Ireland for university. “If you’d stayed, we would’ve never met,” he tacks on.

Niall sighs, sending Harry a feeble smile. “Think I coulda gone me life without a monkey in it, yeah?” he tells him, deflating slightly when Harry sends him a lopsided grin. Harry knows he’s only teasing, and that’s a good sign.

“Think you wouldn’t have very many bananas in your life, yes,” he says, laughing shortly. “But you would’ve been miserable without a Harry Styles in your life.”

“I don’t even think ya’d be alive without a Niall Horan in yours, chimp,” Niall titters back. He pulls Harry into a side hug, squeezing him tight against his body and Harry ignores the way he warms at how they completely mold together, fitting like two puzzle pieces. “I just—I wanted to see them this year, y’know? Tell them how good I’m doin’ at school. Might be a music teacher in a few years, Haz, and I wanna tell them in person.”

“I know, I know,” Harry says soothingly. He pouts at Niall before a new grin grows on his face and he reaches to the back of the couch that they’re sitting on for a beige blanket. He drapes the blanket over his head, giving Niall a dopey smile. “But, I could buy a wig and pretend I’m your mum, then your dad, maybe even buy a bib and pretend I’m Theo for you, yeah? You could tell me then.”

Harry succeeds in pulling a laugh out of Niall and he smiles a little wider, laughing along when Niall yanks the blanket from his head.

“You’re so bloody ridiculous, Haz,” Niall huffs. His voice is fond, though, soft and laced with something that tells Harry he’s going to be okay for the time being. “Worst roommate I coulda ever asked for.”

Niall’s words don’t sting in the slightest, because the smile on his face says differently. It makes Harry swell, the goofy smile still on his face as he tells Niall that they’ll figure something out and that he won’t have to spend the holidays alone this year.

* * *

**  
**  


“Baby brother,” Gemma is saying a few days later over the phone as Harry is walking down the street from the bakery he works shifts at during the week after his classes. His phone is pressed between his cold cheek and his shoulder as he maneuvers the two cups of tea and bag of bagels in his hands carefully so he doesn’t drop anything. He suddenly loathes himself for not asking for a cup holder when he had the chance. “You’re coming home for Christmas, right? I miss you tons,” Gemma continues, wind coming through the line along with her voice so it makes it hard for Harry to hear.

He catches it, though, and hums into his phone, twisting a little to help an elderly woman down the steps of a coffee shop with just one hand. He’s cradling both cups of tea skillfully with one arm while the hand on the same arm holds the paper bag. The elderly woman thanks him, wishes him a happy holidays, and continues on her way while he does the same.

“Coming as soon as the semester is over, which is like, in a week,” Harry tells Gemma, finally taking his free hand to hold his phone. He isn’t wearing gloves and the wind around him chills his hand as he holds it to his equally chilly ear.

“Good,” Gemma says, pleased. “Told mum you were coming anyways. We haven’t seen you since your birthday, Harold. Wish you would’ve come for summer holidays.” Dramatically, she lets out a little huff to express her grievance.

“I’m sorry I have a life, Gem,” Harry jokes. He snickers to himself, putting the phone back between his ear and shoulder so he can shakily pull out the keys to his and Niall’s flat.

Gemma scoffs at Harry and Harry can sense that she’s shaking her head at him all the way from Holmes Chapel. “We’re your family,” she grumbles. “We are your life. Whether you like it or not, unfortunately.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but it’s in a brotherly way, and he’s not even the least bit freaked out when Gemma barks at him, saying, “Don’t roll your eyes at me, baby brother,” because, well, it’s like a sibling thing.

“Alright, alright,” Harry sighs in defeat. “But at least you know I’ll be there. As soon as possible, promise. Wait—as soon as I figure out what I’m going to do with Niall.”

At the mention of Niall, Gemma goes wild, practically grinning through the phone. “Niall! I miss him. Haven’t seen him since we visited London two years ago.”

Harry smiles as he remembers the first time Niall met his family. Anne, Robin, and Gemma had all come to see Harry for summer a couple years back and inevitably met Niall. It was nice and by the end of their visit, it seemed that Anne and Robin wanted to adopt Niall as their own and Gemma was too busy trying to stuff Niall into her bag before anyone noticed. Harry wasn’t surprised at all that they fell in love with him so fast, so easily, because Niall is lovable. It’s part of the reason Harry has kept him in his life for so long. He feeds off his positive energy, his laugh, the crinkles by his eyes when he sees something that makes him happy, and his smile most of all. It’s so contagious and it makes it hard not to want to tuck him into his pocket and keep him there forever.

Harry doesn’t even realize he’s been silent for a while, thinking about Niall and the perfect parts of his face, until he hears a chorus of his sister’s aggravated ‘hello’s from the speaker of his phone. He’s been staring at his front door, key stuck in the lock as he stands there oddly and surely attracting a few stares from nearby people.

“Sorry, what?” he says then, earning a sigh from his sister.

“I said, ‘what do you mean you have to figure out what to do with Niall?’ What’s wrong?”

“Oh,” Harry responds quietly. He sticks his tongue out as he struggles a bit to open his door, but once he does, he shoves his way inside, closes the door behind himself, and kicks off his shoes. The house is too quiet, too clean for two in the afternoon, which means that Niall isn’t home yet and Harry pretends he isn’t disappointed by that. “He can’t get home this Christmas. Not enough money, I think,” he tells her.

“Oh!” Gemma squeaks just as Harry is moving into the kitchen, finally setting the teas and bagels down. He wraps one hand around his warm cuppa and sighs in relief before Gemma continues. “Bring him home then! It would be nice to see him again. Mum misses him too.”

Brow furrowed, Harry frowns in confusion, still warming his hands with his cup of tea. He’s careful not to hold the cup too hard. “So do you and mum just talk about my best friend while I’m away? Do you even miss me as much as you say you do or am I just your way to get to Niall?”

Gemma giggles at this. “Well, yes and no. But I was scrolling through your instagram the other day—which is, by the way, just as boring as I remembered it—and mum was peeking over my shoulder when I came across that selfie of you and Niall that you posted a few weeks ago,” she informs him. “Think she forgot you were her actual son because she squealed over Niall.”

“Cheers,” Harry deadpans, rolling his eyes again, the brother-sister connection fortunately having failed to note that to Gemma. “But it doesn’t sound like a bad idea. I’ll talk to him, okay? But I have to go; school work is calling me.”

“Nerd,” Gemma teases in a monotone voice before they both exchange their love and goodbyes and hang up.

Harry sets down his phone to warm both hands around his cup of tea. He does this for a few brief moments when his phone lights up with a text from _gem_.

_also, I may or may not have told mum you and Niall were dating as a joke when she saw the photo - she believed me and is actually, like, royally happy about it so, tata :) love you, baby brother xxxxxxxxxxxx_

The paper cup gets crushed in Harry’s hand when he grips it too hard, the hot liquid spilling onto the floor and burning his feet through his socks. He curses wildly, and stares his phone with wide eyes.

His mother thinks he’s dating Niall. Shit.

* * *

Harry doesn’t tell Niall about what happened when he gets home from work at the comic book store. He actually doesn’t know if he’s going to tell him at all. Niall doesn’t _have_ to come with him back home for the holidays. He knows he doesn’t, but he also knows that he’d probably be the worst friend in the entire universe if he left him alone at their flat to watch Christmas movies on Netflix and eat a poorly cooked ham all day long.

So, sighing to himself, Harry smiles at Niall when he walks into the kitchen with a bright smile of his own.

“What’s up, Haz?” Niall greets him and sets down the bag of dinner takeout he got on his way home. “How was your day?”

Harry tells him. He tells him everything about his classes that day, how someone in one of his classes threw up because they were so nervous for their exams, and how the owner of the bakery is giving him a gift before he leaves the following week. He tells him everything except for one thing. One very, vital, important thing.

Niall doesn’t suspect anything, though, and he pulls out the box of beef fried rice he bought for himself to start chowing down on. “Love how you always get excitin’ days and I get borin’ ones, watchin’ Zayn cream his pants over new shipments of comic books,” he complains and Harry laughs at him, taking his food out of the bag.

“You think it’s funny,” Niall continues, sending a short glare Harry’s direction, “but it’s true. Today a new Marvel comic came out with a new character that looks _exactly_ like him. Well, when he had his blond streak. He nearly cried.”

Harry hops up on the counter and listens to Niall tell him about the rest of his day, and how some couple came into the store and fought over Spider-man and Batman for nearly ten minutes before the smaller lad pulled the other boy into the bathroom, probably to blow him and his frustrations off. They giggle over that like children for some time before Niall declares he’s stuffed of beef and rice and he’s probably going to shower and go to bed.

It’s the same moment Harry reminds himself he has options. He can hold off for a week or just get it done now. He takes a deep breath and stops Niall before he can leave the kitchen.

“Do you want to come to Holmes Chapel with me for the holidays?” he asks straight out. He nearly swoons over the way Niall beams, smiling widely at his best friend as he clearly tries to keep his cool.

“You mean I don’t hafta stay here?” he asks. Harry nods. “Uh, yeah, sure, mate,” he says then, shrugging as if he weren’t just about to leap from his socks and hug Harry to the ground.

Harry smiles back, gulping a tiny bit to himself. “Great. We’re leaving next week then,” he says and Niall nods once more before he bounces out of the kitchen on happy feet. Harry feels like an idiot for not adding _Right, also, my mum thinks we’re dating for some odd reason. Still cool though, right?_

* * *

“So, are you going to tell me why you told mum Niall and I are dating?”

Harry is talking to Gemma on the phone, again, and sitting behind the counter at the bakery while he tears off pieces of the freshly baked bread to eat.

Gemma giggles and he sighs, repeating himself until she tells him to calm down. “Well, because,” she starts. “It was funny.”

“At the time,” Harry huffs through the phone. He frowns to himself and waits for her to continue.

“No, it’s still funny,” Gemma laughs. “But if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.”

“Go on, then.”

Harry hears Gemma sigh and he sends one back to her so they can at least be annoyed together.

“Alright, well,” she begins. “Like I said, I was scrolling through your instagram, mum saw the photo over my shoulder, she said you two would be cute together so I took the opportunity and said you are together. And well, I actually didn’t think she’d believe me.”

“Gemma!” Harry groans and shakes his head to himself and at his older sister. “Why didn’t you bloody tell her you were joking?”

“Because she was so happy!” Gemma tells him and Harry can hear the pout she’s wearing in her voice. The same pout she’s worn since he was a kid and did something she wasn’t supposed to, but didn’t want Harry to tell their mother about it. “She got really excited. And by the time I was ready to tell her I was joking, she was near tears and so excited for you guys. She was saying how happy she is for you two—that you’re finally together, or summat. Couldn’t make her sad, then she’d go and knit us jumpers for two months.”

“Christ, Gem,” says Harry, and he follows it with another heavy sigh. What started out as a joke is now a lie and he doesn’t want to break his poor mother’s heart. She thinks he finally (finally? He’s sure she means in general, not that he is finally dating _Niall_ ) has a boyfriend. “So what now? Niall’s coming with me, I asked him last night. Are we supposed to lie to mum?”

“That could work,” is what Gemma says instead of, “No! Of course not, I’ll tell mum it was all my fault.”

“Gemma, no.”

“Gemma, yes,” she giggles. “Just pretend. Have him go to the loo a lot and it won’t even be hard as long as you’re not around each other a whole bunch. Just a week or so of pretending, then you can fake break up and I’ll tell mum. Easy as pie. Promise I won’t even butt in.”

Unfortunately, Harry’s never been able to say no to his big sister. Not even when she begged him to let him put braids in his hair when he was eight. Or when she asked him to cover for her while she snuck out with her first boyfriend when he was twelve, and not even now, when her voice is dripping with deviance.

* * *

When Harry and Niall are ready to leave, Harry can see that Niall is about to combust with happiness, the excitement radiating off him as he packs the trunk and back seat with their bags. There’s snow falling and the light from the moon in the sky reflects off the thin sheet of white on the ground.

“You’re sure it’s alright for me to be comin’?” Niall asks once the car is packed and Harry gets into the driver’s seat. Harry is sure Niall has already asked that a hundred times because the happiness is obviously making him nervous. He’s glad, at least, that he isn’t making him stay there by himself.

“Yes,” Harry chuckles, shaking his head at Niall. “Gem has talked to mum, I’m sure. Besides, they love you more than they love me, and they’ve only met you once, Ni.” He adds faux annoyance to his voice, but they share a laugh over it anyways.

They head off after that, and Niall uses the three-hour drive at night to his advantage and falls asleep, curled against the car door. There are Christmas tunes quietly coming from the speakers, so Harry uses the moments of peace to mull over the fact that he still hasn’t told Niall that they’re supposed to be pretending to date until the day after New Year’s Day. He’s had a week to tell him, but, if he’s honest, he didn’t really want to. He was hoping that possibly Gemma and Anne would forget, but now that he’s reflecting upon it, he knows that it’s probably not the best to hope for something like that. There’s no way they’d forget, especially not Gemma.

Harry drives the car past a sign that says _Welcome to Holmes Chapel_ at around half past midnight, and he takes a deep breath before he soaks in the small town he hasn’t seen since last Christmas. It looks almost the same as it did last time, except there’s a little more snow coming down and this time Niall is besides him as he pulls into the driveway of the home he knows like the back of his hand.

Harry looks over to find Niall still sleeping and he knows he can’t let him go in there without telling him. He shakes him awake then, softly telling him that they’ve arrived and that he can finish sleeping once they’re inside.

He spends too much time fondly smiling at the sleepy pout Niall gives him as he sits up straight to stretch his cramped body.

“So,” Harry starts when he catches himself staring at Niall’s mouth too long. “There’s something I didn’t tell you.”

“What?” Niall grumbles, voice groggy as he rubs his eyes.

Now’s the time, he supposes. Never isn’t an option anymore. “My mum thinks we’re dating.”

There’s silence.

Then, “What?”

Niall’s voice is much clearer now. It’s as though the shock of Harry’s words has pushed the sleep out of him and it makes Harry swallow down a nervous lump in his throat.

“My, uh, mum? She thinks we’re dating,” he says slowly, slower than usual. “It was a joke Gemma thought would be funny, but isn’t anymore? Or never was? I mean, I guess it depends on what you find funny and, you know Gemma…she—” Harry cuts himself off when he realises he’s rambling. “I’m terribly sorry, Niall.”

“What?” Niall repeats for the third time. He looks at Harry, completely baffled. His blue eyes are wide open with only a tint of sleep still left in the corners. “I mean—what? Your mum thinks we’re dating?”

Harry nods.

“So, what now? Do we hafta pretend we are? Like, boyfriends n’ stuff?” he questions curiously. He looks just as nervous as Harry feels.

“Would you really? I don’t want to tell my mum we lied to her—well, that Gemma lied to her,” Harry adds too quickly, smiling hopefully at Niall as he clasps his hands together in front of his chest. He pushes down the instinct to bat his eyelashes at Niall like he usually does when he wants something, but those times usually include things like a warm pair of socks, or a cuppa tea, not two weeks of pretending to be each other’s boyfriend for the sake of his mother’s feelings.

He sits there for a moment, just watching Niall think over what he’s been told. He can almost see the cogs in his brain turn harder than they ever have before. Harry wants to urge him, remind him it’s a yes or no option, but then he sees him nod and let out a small sigh.

“Alright,” Niall says. “I’ll do it.”

Harry grins too wide for almost one in the morning and awkwardly maneuvers himself around the armrest to hug his best friend, telling him he definitely owes him one for this before they climb out of the car. He nearly stumbles because a three-hour drive without getting from the car has taken a serious toll on his long legs. Fortunately, he makes it from the trunk of the car with Niall to the house, using the spare key his mum left out for him to get inside.

Normally, he would call out for his mother, but he knows everyone is asleep, so he basks in the warmth and smell of pinecones around the house for just a moment before he drags Niall upstairs to his childhood bedroom.

“Surprised they haven’t turned this into a gym, or a shrine to me, yet,” Niall comments, speaking for the first time since they came inside. Harry turns to him and sticks out his tongue. It earns him a small smile and he’s grateful for it.

“They would never,” he replies, setting his bags down next to his bed. He smiles at his room, actually glad that they haven’t done anything like that, because he knows that there’s a huge possibility they would.

“I bet ya money they would,” he hears Niall say from the other side of the room where he’s looking at pictures on his dresser and playing with the small trinkets scattered across the top of it. “Gemma called me ‘the brother she never had’ the last time I saw her.”

“How rude.” Harry kicks off his shoes and crawls into his warm bed. He soaks it in, then hums in content. “I’ll be more upset in the morning. So tired, warm bed,” he mumbles into his pillow. He doesn’t even care that he hasn’t bothered to change.

Niall’s faint chuckle comes from the end of the bed and he slowly looks down to catch him smiling at him.

“You can sleep next to me if you want, I don’t mind,” he tells him sleepily, patting the spot next to him. “Just don’t fart during the night, please.”

They laugh together and Niall shakes his head at him. “No promises,” he says, still smiling. “But I’m goin’ t’ go ahead and use the loo, okay? Sleep tight, Haz.”

Harry barely has enough energy to tell him where the restroom is because he’s passed out only a second after he’s spoken the last word of his sentence, sleeping peacefully in the bed he’s all too familiar with.

* * *

In the morning, Harry is woken up by a happy squeal of, “Baby brother!” before he’s tackled in bed by his big sister hugging him far too tightly.

“Gemma,” he groans and tries to push her off, but his body is weak from sleep so he gives up after a few seconds.

“Merry Christmas to you too, Harold,” Gemma shoots back, pulling from her arsenal of comebacks. “Don’t try and act too excited.”

“It’s, like, eight o’clock, go away,” Harry grumbles in return as he pulls the blankets over his head, trying once more to shove Gemma away.

Gemma, though, huffs and tears the blanket off him completely. He resists the urge to hiss at her, opting for finally opening his eyes to send her a weak glare.

“It’s near noon, doofus,” Gemma retorts. She stands up and crosses her arms over her chest. “And your boyfriend is downstairs chatting up mum for more pancakes and extra pieces of bacon. Better hurry up and get down there before you and Robin end up single and Niall is your new dad.”

Harry sends Gemma a look that says _I hate you and I wish I weren’t here right now_ , but all he receives back is a smirk that says _I know_.

Sighing, he finally gets up. He’s still in his clothes from the night before, so he doesn’t bother with anything else except taking a quick wee before he goes downstairs to find Niall doing exactly what Gemma said he was.

“There’s my baby boy!” Anne coos as soon as she sees Harry and leaves Niall’s side to go and hug him tightly. Harry smiles, hugging her back and sighing happily. He’s missed home dearly, and can’t wait to be back for good.

“Hi, mum,” he greets. He scrunches up his nose and laughs when she starts to kiss all over his face. “Surprised you left Niall to say hi to me. Gem said he’s been down here trying to woo you.”

“Gemma,” Anne says in a scolding voice to her daughter who’s now standing in the doorway of the kitchen with an innocent smile. “He hasn’t,” she tells Harry then, smiling up at him. “He’s been telling me how he wooed _you_ , though. I can’t believe you two are dating, you’ll have to tell me more about it later. We’re going for our real Christmas tree tonight, so you’ll come along with us, yes?”

Harry flushes, cheeks going hot as he looks up at Niall, but only gets a small shrug in response. He looks back at his mother, smiles nervously, and nods his head. “Of course, mum. Can I eat, though? I’m absolutely starved.”

With confirmation from his mother, Harry serves himself breakfast, only getting one piece of bacon stolen from his plate by Niall. They talk a bit and even put on a few playful banters like they usually do, except this time they have an audience of one crooning mother and a smirking big sister. While washing the dishes (with Niall by his side), Harry takes a few moments to send a few hard glares at Gemma for being such a brat, but she only sends giggles and innocent smiles back.

When Robin gets off work later on that day and everyone is ready, they head out. The sun has already set and snow’s fresh on the ground, crunching beneath their boots and trainers as they walk into the Christmas tree lot.

“Smells great ‘round here,” Niall says to Harry once they decide to wander off on their own. They’re walking a bit close to each other, but it’s something they always do. They’re like magnets, or have some gravitational pull to each other, and it’s been that way since they first met.

“I know. We’ve been coming here since I was a kid, so it’s like, a homey smell away from home.” Harry smiles to himself, looking around at all of the trees on the lot, then up at the stars that are coming out of hiding for the night.

“Your hometown is nice,” he hears Niall say before they bump hands accidentally. They share a quiet laugh and Niall stuffs his hand into the pocket of his coat.

“So,” Harry starts, breaking the momentary silence, “are you going to tell me what you were telling my mum this morning? Didn’t think you’d be so into this plan.”

A louder laugh comes from Niall and Harry reins in a wide smile, going with a small, fond one instead as he watches the corners of Niall’s lips tug up.

“I didn’t think I would either,” Niall divulges. He looks down at the ground while they trudge up and down the aisles of trees. “But she kept asking me how we got together, who asked out who, where it happened, and all this stuff. So I just made somethin’ up.”

“Oh?” laughs Harry. “Enlighten me of our love story then.”

Niall chuckles again, rolling his eyes at Harry. “Alright, Romeo,” he huffs. “Told her I asked you at home, just a few weeks ago though. That it was just a spur of the moment kind of thing, where we hadn’t talked about it before and I had no idea if you felt the same way, y’know? Ya obviously did, though, and now we’re here.”

Harry’s been busy alternating between watching the curl of Niall’s lips while he speaks and the way the stars make a new home in Niall’s eyes. Harry swears they’re shining brighter than the moon in the sky.

Niall has to snap his fingers in Harry’s face to grab his attention and Harry forces a laugh, shaking his head before looking down at the snow-covered ground. “Sounds pretty believable,” he states, biting on the inside of his cheek. “I sort of believe it myself.”

“Guess this won’t be very hard then, yeah?” Niall asks and nudges Harry’s side with his elbow.

Looking back up, Harry finds Niall smiling at him, and he shakes his head again while sending a smile back. “Not hard at all.”

Harry doesn’t know how long they spend smiling at each other, or when they ever decided to stop walking, but they both are startled into looking up when they hear Gemma shouting.

“Found them, mum!” they hear her say and look to where she is at the end of the aisle. “They were snogging against a tree!”

Harry and Niall both turn red and Harry swears the heat in his cheeks is enough to keep him warm for the rest of winter.

“You’re a real menace,” Harry calls back, tugging on Niall’s arm to pull him towards her.

“At times,” Gemma snarks back. “Now come on, love birds, we found a tree.”

Gemma scurries off, leaving a slightly embarrassed Niall and a blushing, yet vengeful Harry behind.

“Is she going to be like this the entire stay?” Niall finds asks.

Harry gulps. “No,” he says, “it’ll be worse.”

* * *

**  
**  


Harry learns too quickly that he underestimates Gemma far too much. Unfortunately, he learns the hard way.

They’re decorating the tree as a family plus one, and actually having a good time. Christmas music is playing softly from the speakers of Gemma’s laptop and they’ve all had a bit of spiked eggnog (Niall having more than a “bit”). So there are more giggles than usual and Harry is clingier than he’d normally be. He’s busy hanging off of Niall’s arm and laughing into his shoulder about a story Robin had told about a man at work who’d somehow lost his pants halfway through the day.

He hears some chatter coming from Anne and Gemma, and his mother saying, “They’re in the kitchen,” before Gemma smirks, almost evilly.

She hums, “have yourself a merry little Christmas,” as she walks off into kitchen. Harry doesn’t care much about what she’s doing anymore when Niall taps his legs to get his attention. He’s in the middle of laughing at Niall for hitting himself in the eye with a piece of popcorn for the decorations when Gemma walks back out with something behind her back.

“I have an early Christmas gift for the lovely couple,” she announces, and Harry is stuck in a limbo between going as red as the Christmas lights or as white as the snow outside.

He secretly hopes she’s talking about their parents, but she’s standing behind him and Niall, so he sends her a look that he hopes tells her _you said you wouldn’t butt in_ , but he knows that she won’t listen anyway.

“Tada,” Gemma cheers, and Harry really does wish he’d left Niall at home.

Hanging above them both in Gemma’s hand is fresh mistletoe, and not too far below it is Gemma’s smirk as she looks at them. “Go on, rules are rules,” she pushes.

Harry looks at Niall, then to Gemma with a nervous grin as he shakes his head. “Sorry, Gem, not in front of mum and Robin,” he tells her, snaking a hand around to try and secretly swat her away. It doesn’t work, and she just moves to stand in front of them, in between them and Anne and Robin.

“Oh, come on,” Gemma sighs, “it’s not like they haven’t seen two people kiss before. Just do it.”

Sadly, Anne isn’t discouraging. “It’s just a kiss for mistletoe, boys,” she encourages and cuddles into her husband’s side, grinning wildly at them.

Harry looks at Niall again, pouting just for him to see, but to his surprise, Niall just shrugs. He doesn’t have a clue if it’s the eggnog, or the rising suspicion in his gut that Niall really doesn’t care if he has to kiss Harry.

“S’not like they haven’t seen two people kiss before, Haz,” is what Niall finally says, and it shocks Harry. He didn’t think they’d have to kiss at all this break, but here they are, first day in town, and Niall is already willing to. _It’s just the eggnog_ , Harry tells himself, _just the eggnog_.

He repeats this repeatedly to himself until their lips are breaths apart from each other’s and Harry is searching Niall’s eyes for any sign of regret. He doesn’t realize he’s spent too much time searching until he feels Niall’s lips against his, kissing him full on the mouth.

Harry sucks in a sharp breath through his nose, but his lips part slightly as he catches Niall’s bottom lip. Apparently, that gravitational pull works with their lips too, because when Harry tries to pull back after a few moments, Niall leans back in and kisses him again, making him hum in surprise as his eyes shut once more. Tentatively, he raises his hand to trace the shape of Niall’s jaw with his fingers, curving them to cup his chin and tilts his head into the kiss. Harry’s head is swimming and there’s an odd warmth in his chest that he knows isn’t from the fire place beneath the telly. He isn’t quite sure how this has dragged on for so long, but he can’t stop himself from kissing Niall slowly. It isn’t until they hear Gemma clear her throat that they finally pull back from each other, a sea of red washing up both their necks in rapid waves onto the shore of their chins. Harry is the first to look down with a shy smile, hearing his sister laugh from above.

“Maybe mistletoe wasn’t a good idea if that was going to be the outcome,” Gemma says slowly, clearly surprised.

“Suppose so,” Harry mumbles, nearly to himself as he stands up. “I’m knackered. You all can have dinner without me, okay?”

They all frown at him, but Anne nods her head and stands up to hug him good night. “Love you, sleep well,” she whispers to him. Harry smiles and kisses her cheek before he says goodnight to everyone else, sending a small knowing look to Niall, and saunters to his room.

He doesn’t fall asleep right away, though, after he’s changed into his pyjamas and crawled into bed. He feels far too hot and the heater isn’t even on. He alternates between pulling the covers on when it becomes too cold and shoving them off when he gets too hot. It takes him hours to finally feel tired, and when he does, it must be time for everyone to be falling asleep anyway because he hears the door open and close followed by Niall’s heavy footsteps. It’s another ten minutes of pretending to be asleep before he feels the bed dip in and the warmth besides him grow.

Harry feels Niall’s eyes on him and he tries his hardest not to gulp and blow his cover. After a few moments of silence, he feels Niall move closer, breath smelling of eggnog and candy canes ghosting over his cheek. His heart hammers in his chest until nothing; the warm air is gone and he doesn’t feel Niall close to him anymore.

All Harry hears next is, “G’night, Haz,” before blankets are hugged tighter around him and Niall.

The only thing Harry hears before he falls asleep that night is the sound of Niall’s soft snores and his heart murmuring to his mind things he never would have thought he’d hear before.

* * *

The kiss makes things far too wild between Niall and Harry.

It’s not that things are awkward, in fact, it’s quite the opposite. Harry wakes up the morning after with his legs tangled with Niall’s. They’re spooning, and Harry doesn’t realize that until he feels something heavy and hard resting in the small of his back. He’s startled awake by it and opens his eyes, feeling Niall’s arms wrapped around his waist and his head fitted into the crook of Harry’s neck.

It isn’t quite his fault when Harry smiles softly to himself, but it is when he mulls over the fact that he’s just found out how much he enjoys being a big little spoon. It takes him a full minute to finally turn around, carefully, so he doesn’t wake Niall just yet. When he does, Harry tries not to gasp at how pretty Niall looks when he’s asleep. His face is so close and Harry wants to count the tiny specks that are spread across his nose or how many eyelashes that are resting soundly against his cheeks. This takes another two whole minutes, and then he finally comes to his senses and slides from out of Niall’s arms.

He tells himself that his mind is playing tricks on him when he thinks he hears Niall whine for him to come back before his snores resume.

Later on in the day, Harry finds himself giggling absentmindedly with Niall while they make cookies with Anne and Gemma. Except it would be all of them making cookies if Niall and Harry weren’t taking every chance they got to make a mess of each other, smearing dough on each other’s cheeks and getting flour in each other’s hair. When they (Anne and Gemma) are done getting the cookies on the tray, Harry just giggles at all of the dough he managed to mask Niall’s face before he makes a not so conscious decision to dip down and lick it off with his tongue, then leave a lingering kiss on his cheek. Because of the dough, Harry can’t tell if Niall’s cheeks are as red as his neck has become, but they spend a few moments just sending each other fond looks, the kitchen silent except for the screaming that Harry’s heart is doing, thrashing around in his chest.

“Hello? Mother and sister still here,” is what Gemma smartly remarks to break their gazing and Harry just scoffs, moving quickly to clean up.

“Sorry,” he murmurs to Niall as he starts putting their dirty utensils into the sink. He isn’t sorry, though, or at least he doesn’t feel like he is. He supposes there’s a difference between wanting to feel sorry and not knowing whether he should be or not.

Then Niall whispers, “Don’t be,” in return, and then his cheek is being wiped clean by a wet paper towel and a soft pair of lips.

They spend the rest of the day at home being scolded by Anne for trying to eat all of the cookies in one sitting and watching _Love Actually_ because Harry asked kindly. At night, when the sun has set, the snow has broken free, and everyone has gone to bed except Harry and Niall, they’re giggling and stuffing leftover cookies into a paper bag.

Harry goes into the closet in the hallway once their bag is full and pulls out a few large blankets before he takes Niall’s hand and drags him outside to his backyard. He giggles wildly with Niall as he throws the bag of cookies and blankets onto the low hanging roof.

“Haz, what in the hell are we doin’ out here? It’s bloody freezin’,” Niall says in a hushed voice when Harry drags him to the side of the house where a ladder and a stack of large cinder blocks are. He hisses a, “shh,” at Niall and skillfully uses them both to climb up to the roof like he has so many times growing up at this house, then helps Niall do the same. He walks carefully across the slightly flat roof blanketed in snow to where the blankets and cookies landed before he takes Niall to the front of the house on the roof.

“Used to do this all the time as a kid,” Harry tells Niall, smiling as he opens up the blankets and spreads them out for them to sit down on. He uses the few extra blankets to wrap them up once they’re seated with little comfort. “Only fell off twice.”

“You would think ya’d stop coming up here after the first time,” Niall says teasingly and nudges Harry.

“I’m invincible, Niall Horan,” Harry declares and lies back, pulling Niall down with him. They lay side by side, their shoulders touching and hands brushing beneath the blankets.

“Prob’ly all of the bananas,” Niall teases and earns a roll of Harry’s eyes in response. “What? They’re full of potassium, aren’t they? Also prob’ly why you love t’ climb things, like houses,” he adds, laughing and smiling at Harry.

“I don’t even eat that many, Niall,” Harry defends, huffing.

“You once almost couldn’t pay your half of the rent because you had t’ stock up on them, Haz,” Niall says.

“They were on sale!”

They laugh loudly with each other, and Harry laughs a little too loud that he resorts to burying his face into Niall’s shoulder to muffle the noises he’s making. They stop briefly, but Harry snorts, and they start all over again.

Harry spends an hour on the roof with Niall just doing that, laughing, smiling, and eating their cookies with each other as they talk about things back home and make jokes and just spend time being _Niall and Harry_ without Anne or Gemma looking over their shoulders. Harry doesn’t know if he should be scared that it isn’t any different with them around anyway.

At half past eleven, a gust of wind causes Harry’s body to shake and shiver, goose bumps covering him in waves. He breathes out, watching the cloud of his breath float off and then disappear.

“You cold?” Niall asks when he notices, frowning at him.

“A bit,” is what Harry replies with and shrugs. “Forgot my gloves, though. My hands are suffering.”

Niall laughs gently and Harry joins him until he feels equally cold fingers slip between his. They close around his hand and he turns his head to look at Niall, smiling gently when warmth spreads across his chest instead of his hands.

“Mine are just as cold, sorry,” Niall tells him, but doesn’t bother to pull his hand back and neither does Harry. “But they’ll warm up eventually, yah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says softly and moves closer to Niall under the blankets.

They sit there in silence. It’s a peaceful silence, though, one that makes Harry’s chills go away and sends warmth spreading all across his body.

A few minutes later, Niall breaks that silence. “Look, a shootin’ star,” he gasps and Harry looks up to see what looks like a slow moving star drifting across the sky.

Upon further examination, he laughs at Niall. “I think that’s a plane, Ni,” he says, trying not to snicker. “Or a helicopter, at least.”

Niall pouts, cocking his head to the side before shrugging his shoulders. “We can pretend, yeah? We seem to be good at it.”

It’s Harry’s turn to pout. He only does it for a few seconds, but it’s there, and he tries not to sound too disappointed when he agrees, saying, “Yeah, we do,” because up until this point, he honestly didn’t know the difference between reality and pretend anymore, but hearing Niall confirm it brings an ache to his heart and he doesn’t know why.

“Wish for somethin’ then,” Niall commands, and Harry does, with his eyes closed.

Harry takes a few moments to do it, and when he’s finished, he turns back to Niall to find him already watching him.

“Finished, then?” he questions. Harry nods. “What did ya wish for?”

“I can’t tell you,” Harry protests. It makes Niall frown, but he doesn’t push it any further. Instead, he starts telling him what he wished for.

“Want me family t’ be okay tomorrow and on Christmas Day,” he says, voice soft. “Also want us to have a good Christmas Eve and Day. Like, you, your family, and meself. Just want us all t’ be happy.”

Harry is far too tired now, and slightly upset, to swoon over Niall the way he wants. Instead, he just squeezes his hand and assures him everything will be perfect.

The two of them only decide to leave the roof a quarter past midnight, when they’re too tired to properly climb down. Niall nearly kicks Harry in the face on the way down, but they manage eventually. Soon enough, they’re both inside and tucked into a warm bed. When they’re cuddled together as they drift to sleep, Harry thinks that it isn’t just pretend anymore. He doesn’t know if it ever was.

Harry falls asleep without telling Niall that he wished to find out.

* * *

On Christmas Eve, Harry wakes up to an empty space beside him. He’s hugging a pillow that smells too much like the shampoo Niall brought on the trip. He sighs against the fabric of it before he forces himself out of bed. He takes a quick wee and heads downstairs to find the living room completely empty and everything is silent until Gemma comes from the kitchen with a cuppa coffee in her hands.

“Where is everyone?” Harry asks her, voice hoarse from sleep.

“Mum and Robin took Niall to get a turkey and ham for tomorrow’s dinner,” Gemma informs him, proceeding to sip on her coffee. “I didn’t want to go and you weren’t awake, so,” she adds with a shrug. “They should be back soon.”

Harry just hums, scratching his head as he grabs the remote to turn on the television while sitting on the couch.

“You know, I saw you and Niall sneaking back in last night,” Gemma speaks up again. Harry glances at her oddly, waiting for her to continue. “Where were you two?”

“First off,” says Harry, sighing, “we weren’t ‘sneaking’ back in. Secondly, we were on the roof.”

Gemma looks dumbfounded. “The roof? You took him on the roof? The roof was like the ‘Nobody Is Allowed Up Here’ tree house you never had. You never let me up there, always hiding the bloody ladder from me,” she complains.

Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes and just shakes his head at her. “Just wanted some peace and quiet. Christ, Gem.”

It’s true, though, and Harry knows it. The roof was like his _thing_ , and he never liked to come down or let anyone else up. Niall was the first person to share that intimate space with him, despite the fact that it’s just a roof and not the tree house he always wanted.

“Peace and quiet for what? To kiss without anyone else seeing, hm?”

Harry groans. “Gemma, please,” he huffs. “Niall is just a friend, and you know it. This is just _pretend,_ remember? And all your fault, if I remember correctly.”

“Wah, wah, wah, stop being a big baby, Harold,” Gemma berates him. “Do you think I’m an absolute _idiot_? Answer me honestly, please.”

Harry stares at her. He’s confused, tired, and on the verge of yawning as he watches her closely. Instead of making his morning any harder, he just supplies a simple, “No,” before letting her go about whatever she’s doing.

“God, Harry, I didn’t tell mum you and Niall were dating as a joke,” she finally says, shoulders slumping. “Although I wish I would’ve said nothing at all because watching you two oblivious idiots is so painful.”

“What?” Harry says vacantly.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know it yourself, Harry.”

“What—“

“You don’t think I can’t tell you’re practically in love with Niall?”

And, honestly, Harry wants to say no. He doesn’t know what’s going on, he feels dizzy, and is overwhelmed with the need to lie down to think about what Gemma is saying.

“Oh dear,” Gemma breathes, sitting besides Harry. “Harry, I’m going to make this as simple as I possibly can. I think that when you have more pictures of someone else and more selfies of your staring at that person like they’re the most wonderful thing you’ve ever seen than photos of yourself on your Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook, something’s going on. And when you don’t think twice about bringing him home for Christmas with your family and you kiss him and look at him like he’s the world—I think, I think maybe you might have more than platonic feelings for him. Correct me if I’m wrong, though baby brother, these are just personal observations. Only just a few, actually. But I think maybe you see and know the same things I know.”

Harry is—Harry is at a loss for words. He feels stiff, suddenly, and mulls over every words he’s just been told by his big sister.

“Gemma, Niall and I aren’t—“

“You licked cookie dough off of his cheek, Harry, the same day I found you two spooning in your bed.”

Harry pouts at Gemma. His heart beat picks up in speed and he tries not to overreact, not to deny every accusation, but he knows deep down that there’s a possibility it all might be true.

“I can’t be in love with Niall,” he finally murmurs, glancing down at his lap. “It’s all pretend anyways, remember? To him it definitely is, at least.”

“This isn’t one-sided, Haz, I see the way he looks at you when you’re not watching,” Gemma tells him. Her voice is much softer now, the supportive big sister in her finally becoming evident as she puts a hand on his knee. “I don’t think you’re scared that this is pretend, Harry,” she honestly says, “I think you’re scared that it’s not. I’m just here to assure you that you don’t have to be.”

Harry doesn’t reply. He just rests his head on Gemma’s shoulder, accepting the fact that it all may as well be true.

* * *

Harry tries and fails to avoid Niall as much as he can for the rest of the day. It works for some time, but he can’t do it entirely without Niall catching on, which he does.

“You’ve said five words t’me all day, Haz,” Niall whispers to him after dinner when they’re sitting down and watching _It’s a Wonderful Life_ on the telly. They’re somewhat curled against each other, but Harry still finds a way to keep his distance.

“Just tired,” he answers quietly.

“Do you want t’ head upstairs then?” Niall asks him, trying to move closer to him. Harry swears he attempts to take hold of his hand, but it never happens.

“It’s fine, Ni,” he says a bit more sharper than he means too. He doesn’t look to see the frown he knows Niall is wearing, knows it’ll only make him do the same.

He hears Niall sigh and then feels him slide out from the spot besides him, standing up with a stretch of his arms. Harry looks up to see him smiling, almost sadly, down at him.

“Think m’gonna head upstairs for the night,” he announces, faking a yawn for extra measures. Harry can tell. “G’night everyone. Night, Haz,” Niall says, then leans down to kiss Harry’s cheek in the same spot, a spot too close to his lips, that he did in the kitchen the other day. Harry can tell this, too, because his skin still burns from when it happened and everything Niall does is so easy to read and leaves a lasting impression on him. It’s not something he can deny anymore.

He just hopes, deep in his gut, that this time around it’s genuine and not an act for his family.

Everyone says their good nights, everyone except Harry, because Harry’s been silent almost all day, voluntarily. He has no choice but to keep quiet now. At least that’s what his mind is telling him.

Once the movie is finished with, Harry forces himself to say goodnight to his family before they all shuffle upstairs sleepily to their respective bedrooms. Harry takes longer than usual to go into his own, spending a bit of time in the bathroom to take deep breaths and remind himself that it’s just Niall in his room. Whether he’s in love with him or not, it’s just Niall. At this point, though, he’s sure _or not_ isn’t a big option anymore.

When he finally decides to enter his room, Harry finds Niall still awake, sitting up in the bed and scrolling through his phone. He sends him a shy smile, a smile that erases the four years of knowing each other.

“Thought you were going to sleep,” he says quietly, sitting down on his side of the bed.

“Not really tired,” Niall tells him. “Thought you were mad at me. Wanted t’ just leave you be for a bit.”

Harry frowns because he isn’t mad at Niall. He’s mad at himself, mostly, but he could never bring himself to be mad at Niall. Not when all Niall seems to do is make him smile and feel tight in the chest.

“I’m not, I swear, Ni,” he promises.

“Then why’ve ya been ignorin’ me all day?” Niall wonders, setting his phone down to look at Harry. “If I did somethin’ wrong, or made ya upset, you can tell me.” His voice is pleading, sounding just like the day he told him he wouldn’t be able to make it home for Christmas and Harry feels like the worst friend ever for making his Christmas Eve so shitty.

“No, no, Niall,” he sighs, “you didn’t. I promise. It’s just—I’ve been thinking to myself all day. Been talking to Gem and everything is really weird right now, like, in here.” He rubs over his chest, more specifically, his heart and looks down at his knees.

“Your chest?” Niall says, voice glib.

“My heart, dummy.”

This successfully pulls a laugh from Niall and Harry smiles faintly, looking back up to see Niall doing the same. They share the silence for a second before Harry’s smile fades away and he sighs again.

“Can I ask you a question, Ni?” he requests gently, waiting for confirmation, and when he gets it, he continues. “Did this—us, pretend-us—ever stop being pretend over the past few days?”

Silence falls over them again and Harry is nervous. His gut is wrenching and he wants to tell Niall he doesn’t have to answer, that he can forget he even asked if wants to. But Niall beats him too it, so he sits and listens.

“Can I ask you a question, too?” Niall replies. Harry’s brows furrow slightly, but he nods, giving him the green light to continue.

“Did this ever start bein’ pretend?”

Harry stays silent. It isn’t for long because a second later he’s asking, “Would it be alright if I kissed you, Ni?” and Niall responds with, “Wouldn’t be alright if ya didn’t.”

Harry pulls his legs up onto the bed and crawls over to Niall, resting his hand upon his chest to feel his pounding heart beat against his fingertips. Harry looks to his eyes, then to his lips, and back to his eyes. He thinks for a moment that his eyes are too good to shelter the stars, and deserve galaxies upon galaxies instead. The only time Harry’s mind stops racing is when he feels Niall’s hand against his cheek and Niall’s lips against his own for the second time.

They kiss, just as before, soft and warm and sweet so Harry’s body is blanketed with a good swarm of goose bumps this time. Niall kisses like honey being poured into a jar that Harry is soon swimming in, slowly. He kisses like air and Harry is dying to breathe. He doesn’t want to stop and he won’t, not until the real world calls him back. Not even then would he dare leave Niall’s arms, where he’s feeling warmer than any sun could have ever made him on a summer’s day.

“What does this mean?” he finds himself asking against Niall’s lips before he goes right back to kissing him. He knows, though, that he’ll have to stop again to let Niall answer, and he almost dreads that moment.

“Means I love ya, idiot,” is what Niall says when he finds the time to reply. Like always, his words don’t wound Harry in the slightest. Harry doesn’t think they ever will. Not with the way Niall is smiling against his mouth and kissing him like Harry’s never been kissed before.

“Glad the feeling is mutual then,” Harry mumbles. “Pretending I didn’t feel the same way kind of sucks, now that I think about it.”

“Stop talking, Haz,” Niall huffs and kisses Harry once more. This time, it’s harder. Hotter. It sends a different kind of heat soaring through Harry’s bones as he climbs onto him, straddling his hips and kissing him back with fever.

Niall reaches up and takes Harry’s hair out of the bun it’s been in, flinging the hair tie across the room to probably never be found again. But it’s alright, and Harry doesn’t care, because the kisses he loves so much are on his chin, his jaw, and his neck. Niall is sucking a mark right above his Adam’s apple and he can’t suppress the low growl that rumbles past the press of Niall’s lips.

“We really doin’ this?” Niall asks against Harry’s skin. His words make him sound timid but his hands crawling underneath Harry’s shirt to lift it over his head say differently.

“We’d be stupid not to, yeah?” Harry laughs, breathless already. “Don’t know about you, but if I’ve done the math correctly after our sudden realizations, I’ve wanted this since the first time I accidentally caught you naked, which is approximately two and a half years ago?”

“Shit,” Niall breathes, now kissing across Harry’s collarbones and biting an array of marks into the skin above his swallow tattoos. “Dumb birds, why’d you get these?”

“They’re not dumb,” Harry argues and leans back, reaching down to frantically pull Niall’s cock out while Niall returns the favor, “they’re majestic. Now be quiet and take your shirt off before I make the decision to get a rabbit tattooed above my dick and name it ‘pubic hare.’”

“You’re disgustin’,” Niall scolds, but complies with the demand and pauses to tear his own shirt off. “And the ‘pubic hare’ part is gross too, why do I like you again?”

Harry giggles, not only at Niall’s words but also at the way his lips are now back at his neck, tickling him slightly. “Because I’m stocked full of potassium, love, puns, and everyone wants a pet monkey at some point in their boring lives?” he retorts. He grinds his hips down into Niall’s, their cocks brushing, and Niall gasps against his neck.

“Right,” he whispers, then lifts Harry off him to lay him down on the bed next to him. He climbs over him this time, kissing his lips and Harry whines for it, kissing him hard as he shuffles out of his joggers.

“Really gettin’ naked for this?” Niall laughs into the kiss, but gasps again when Harry reaches between them for his half-hard cock, giving it a few languid strokes.

“This is sex, Niall, be classy,” Harry tells him, and they laugh again. Harry honestly never would’ve imagined himself laughing during sex with anyone but Niall.

Niall doesn’t bother responding this time, and instead goes for Harry’s chest, dipping down and kissing it while he skillfully wiggles free from his own bottoms and pants. Harry doesn’t leave him down there for long, though, and pulls him back up, searching for his lips with his own. “You’re not allowed to stop kissing me,” he whispers, then kisses him again.

No argue is made and Harry smiles into the kiss before he parts his lips, bringing a hand up to card it through Niall’s hair. Their hips are working together to make some sort of rhythm happen, but it soon fails so Harry just uses his free hand, fortunately large enough and now slick with his own spit, to stroke both of their cocks together. They rut against each other, and sadly can’t remain kissing because the twist of Harry’s hand and swipe of his thumb across the head of Niall’s cock has him panting heavy against his lips.

“C—Christ, Haz,” Niall grunts, a moan catching somewhere in his throat when Harry squeezes the bases of their dicks together. “Wish I’d known you were so—so bloody good at handjobs.”

Harry only grins, opening his eyes to look up at Niall, speeding up his hand. “Feels better than a wank, right now,” he says with a whimper. Niall’s hips jut forward, stuttering a bit.

“’M gonna come soon, Harry,” he says pathetically, shoving his face into Harry’s neck as he fucks into Harry’s hand. His words stand true and it isn’t long before he’s covering their stomachs with his come, letting out startled, breathy grunts into the skin of Harry’s neck.

“Already?” Harry says with a breathless laugh when Niall swats his hand away and takes over for him.

“‘Least I’m not the one with pigeons on me chest,” Niall huffs, the last waves of his orgasm wearing thin. He flicks his wrist just right and Harry chokes out a gasp.

“They’re swallows, fuck,” Harry grits out and comes, adding to the mess on their stomachs, “you.”

“Soon,” Niall laughs and falls beside a panting Harry.

“Stop making fun of my tattoos,” Harry breathes out while his orgasm wears off and he turns his head to pout at Niall.

“One more crack, c’mon, Haz,” Niall pleads. Harry relents, and nods. Niall grins and snickers before saying, “Glad m’not the one with a gold fish on my arm.”

Harry can’t help but laugh and he rolls over, hitting Niall’s arm as he laughs into his shoulder. “Idiot,” he says fondly and smiles at him. “Go get a flannel from my drawer before you wee yourself from being so hilarious.”

Niall does, and when he comes back, he cleans them off and climbs under the sheets to cuddle Harry close. They lie in silence together, Niall tracing over a few of the tattoos on Harry’s arms, then grabbing his hand to kiss his shamrock tattoo gently. “Like this tattoo the best,” he says gently and Harry hums in response.

He feels so content, lying here in Niall’s arms. It’s not pretend, but he knows it never was, and knowing is what makes it all better.

Harry looks at the digital clock on his nightstand that reads 11:59PM. He watches the numbers change a few moments later and smiles to himself, “Hey, Ni,” he whispers quietly, earning a sleepy grunt from Niall. He laughs lightly and closes his eyes. “Merry Christmas.”

**_epilogue_ **

“Never in my life would I have thought I’d be in a pub like this on New Year’s Eve,” Harry says loudly over boisterous chatter and guffaws coming from drunken men. Music is playing too, so he has to speak loud enough for Niall to hear him even though he’s right by his side, where he always is.

“Sorry I pulled you from Holmes Chapel this year then, Haz,” Niall replies, grinning wildly though as he clinks his pint with some nearby stranger. “‘Least you finally met my family though, yeah?”

Harry nods his head, smiling too because Niall’s family is great. They’re the happiest people he’s ever met. Maura having been so excited to meet the boy who’s been making her son so happy the past year and Bobby there to make sure he doesn’t plan on hurting his boy. He’s met Greg, Theo, and Denise too, although he spends most of his time plotting ways to fly Theo back to London with him and Niall.

“They love ya,” Niall tells him, “and I knew they would.”

“It’s not like I was scared they wouldn’t,” Harry laughs and leans into Niall’s side so they can interact better. “Everyone loves me. It’s like I’ve got a gift.”

Niall smiles at him fondly, then, leaning up to catch Harry’s lips in a quick kiss. “Not as much as I love you,” he says, softer, so soft that Harry barely catches it. He does though, and he feels the warmth in his chest that Niall’s been making him feel stronger and stronger every day for the past year.

He goes to say he loves him back, but the loud chants of descending numbers don’t let him. It doesn’t matter anyways, because Niall is joining, throwing his pint in the air as he counts down from ten with everyone else.

Harry spends those ten seconds admiring Niall, watching the contours of his face change animatedly as he cheers out a loud six, then a hearty five, all the way until he’s shouting, “Happy New Year’s!” and pulling Harry into a hard kiss. He smiles against his lips and kisses him back, melting into his arms and kissing him until he can’t anymore.

“Happy New Year, Haz,” Niall says, grinning so bright that he puts the sun to shame.

“Happy New Year, Niall,” he replies, kissing him once more before asking, “What’s your New Year’s resolution?”

“Same as last year,” Niall states. Harry remembers it so vividly, sitting on the roof of his home with Niall as they watched distant fireworks go off. Niall had kissed him and told him he wanted to keep falling in love with him, and that he never wanted to stop. They would’ve stayed on that roof and kissed until their lips were raw and fell off their faces if Gemma hadn’t come out with poppers, cheering that he’d left the ladder down for once. It was nice while it lasted, though.

“You haven’t maxed out in love for me yet?” Harry teases. But Niall shakes his head and pulls him close.

Niall kisses him, and it makes fireworks go off in Harry’s chest, and he says right against Harry’s lips, “Can’t help fallin’ in love with you, Haz.”

~

_**fin.** _

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**Author's Note:**

> hope this sufficed, receiver! happy holidays everyone ❅♡❅♡❅  
> (find me on tumblr [here](http://zzouiam.tumblr.com))


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